Life Starts Now
by Rayne9045
Summary: She didn't fit in anywhere in Charming, California. His life was no exception.
1. Chapter 1: Hate Every Beautiful Day

**"Cause life starts now**

**You've done all the things that could kill you somehow**

**and you're so far down**

**But you will survive it somehow**

**Because life starts now"**

**-Three Days Grace, "Life Starts Now"**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Sons of Anarchy. Just Bonnie, Candi, the other waitresses of Danny's Diner, and the imaginary franchise that is Danny's Diner.

--

**"Everything's feeling unclear  
I wish it was raining  
'Cause I hate every beautiful day"**

**-Sugarcult, "Hate Every Beautiful Day"**

Chapter One

"Candi!" Came a yell from the kitchen.

Twenty-three year old Bonnie Leigh Asher, one of Danny's Diner's grill cooks, was severely pissed. The young blond, studying to be an actress, meekly sauntered up to the stainless steel topped partition that divided the kitchen area from the dining counter.

"What in the world does this say?" The older blond, albeit a bit more petite than the girl she was yelling at, was a very intimidating person to those who hadn't been working with her long. She slapped a lined order slip onto the steel top. Candi squinted to read the scribble that was obviously her own handwriting.

"I don't know." was the actress' reply.

"You don't know," Bonnie rolled her eyes "And you wrote it."

"Yeah," Candi winced, preparing herself for a barrage of insults. But all that came was a heavy frustrated sigh.

"Lisa, can you read this?"

Lisa was one of the older waitresses, experienced and more patient with the new people, and had a lot of knowledge when it came to things such as deciphering handwriting. She could even tell what her two year old grandchild was scribbling out.

"Cheeseburger, well-done, hold the tomato and the mustard. Chili-cheese fries."

"Thank you." Bonnie said, glaring at the young waitress.

"Not a problem." Lisa said as she pulled Candi off to the floor. She was muttering something to her, probably telling her to watch her handwriting.

"I don't see why you give her so much hell." a voice from Bonnie's left said. It was Paul, a man in his mid-thirties who was tall and had a head of bright orange hair.

"Because, shes so spoiled._ Oooh, look at my Mustang. Its all pretty and pink. And look at the diamond tennis bracelet that daddy got me." _Bonnie said, imitating Candi in a high-pitched whiny voice whilst waving her arms around. The two other cooks who were working with her chuckled. " And shes lazy. I mean, if you're gonna work, get off your ass and work! I do not have time to babysit and all that shit!"

"Well, not all of us have the ability to pick things up so easily." argued Paul

"She doesn't even try!" Cried Bonnie in a pitch that was higher than her normal voice.

--

Come two o'clock, Bonnie was out of the back door of the diner. It was way too bright outside for her, and she had forgotten her sunglasses today. Most people would love hot and arid days like these. Most people do. But Bonnie hated the sunny dry weather. She was more of a rainy day girl. Thank God it was only a month until the fall weather would start kicking in. She could always layer on more clothes in cold weather but even a little clothing always seemed too much in these hot days.

Bonnie's old white Cadillac El Dorado was parked out back with the rest of the employee cars, in between Lisa's rusty old Ford pick-up, and that damn pink Mustang of Candi's. It was, not to sound corny, her pride and joy. It rode so well and only had a few defects, such as a passenger seat that wouldn't move and a slightly faulty air conditioner. Yet, Bonnie didn't care.

"She better have not banged up my door." She mumbled to herself as she squeezed into the tight space between her car and Candi's. Not a big challenge, seeing as the young woman was so small. No scratch, no pink paint to contrast with the slightly off white color of her car, so she carefully slid from out between them to get into the driver's seat.

It was a late nineties model that was passed down to her when her father finally bought himself a big Dodge truck, but not until after her first car had completely died on her. It was an old Buick from the eighties. And the Cadillac, unlike its predecessor, hadn't given Bonnie any major problems.

Until today.

She turned to start the car and it didn't start. It made a loud clicking noise. She had encountered this before with her Buick in the first few months she had it.

"Craaaaap." She groaned with her head slammed on her steering wheel.

Bonnie got out of her car and headed back into the diner, slamming the car door behind her. She walked swiftly through the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door to the register.

"Sarah, wheres the phone book?" Bonnie asked the waitress at the the register as she propped her elbows up on the counter and buried her hands in her hair.

"Whats wrong, kid?" her co-worker asked. Sarah was a bit older than Bonnie and a lot more sweeter.

"Car. I think its my starter. Keeps clickin' or somethin'." She grumbled.

Sarah slapped the thin Charming yellow pages onto the counter beside Bonnie.

"Teller-Morrow's your best bet. Its either that, or Crazy Bob's"

"There's a reason they call him Crazy Bob." Muttered the blonde as she flipped through the book to find Teller-Morrow's number.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

Bonnie looked up mid page flip to see Candi leaning over the counter. She frowned and continued to flip through the Yellowpages for the number.

"The number for Teller-Morrow."

"You mean you don't know it?" Candi asked, apparently dumbfounded that not every woman in this damn town wasn't a Sons groupie. The cook looked up at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"If I did, do you think I would be looking through the phone book for it?"

"Well, no...I just thought...you know..."

"What, that like you and your little groupie friends, I too swoon over the Sons of Anarchy?" Bonnie tilted her head and shot the actress wannabe a quizzical look. "Hmmm?"

"Jeez, why do you have to be such a bitch?" Candi muttered under her breath as she turned around.

Bonnie ignored the comment. Its not like she disliked the Sons, she just could give less of a care. The cut didn't scare her, but it didn't command the respect that most people had outright for those boys. She didn't know them and only heard rumors from the older waitresses who liked to sit around and gossip during their smoke breaks, so there was no way for her to judge them. Good or bad.

"Teller-Morrow...Teller-Morrow..." She muttered as she slid her pointer finger down the page "Bingo."

She pulled her phone out from her back pocket and dialed the number as she walked to the back parking lot.

"Teller-Morrow." A slightly New York accented voice said, quite bored.

"I need a tow. Danny's Diner, back parking lot. I think its the starter. Keeps making that click-click-click noise." She told him quickly.

The voice hesitated, " Are you sure its not your battery?"

"My lights are comin' on. So no." She leaned back on to the front of her car. Her wallet chain hit the hood with a low sounding tink.

" Well, the tow truck will be out there in a few minutes. Danny's Diner you said?"

"Yeppers. White Cadillac. Back parking lot."

"Okay,"

They hung up as Bonnie slid her phone shut with a huff. This day was just getting better and better.


	2. Chapter 2: Money

Insert Disclaimer here....Yeah, I don't own SOA...

Chapter 2: Money

"Money, it's a crime.  
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie.  
Money, so they say  
Is the root of all evil today.  
But if you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're  
giving none away."

-Pink Floyd, "Money"

Bonnie sat on the trunk of her car and waited for the tow truck to arrive. She kept looking at her phone to keep track of time, sliding it open and then sliding it shut. The thing had so many scratches on its silvery mirror screen, and the steel body. She really needed a new phone. Maybe something with a slide out keyboard...

Bonnie let her mind wonder as she waited. She didn't have anything better to do. There was no one to call because all of her friends were busy with their own lives. While she worked days and some nights and hung around her little apartment, alone, might she add, above Red Phish music store; her highschool friends and anyone else she had met along the way were busy with families and corporate jobs.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at her own life. She really hadn't gotten anywhere, had she? She was twenty-three and should be in college, studying to be something. But the farthest she had gotten was two years at the community college and an Associates in Music. Well, silver lining, that was better than nothing at all. Right?

So why the hell was she a cook at a diner instead of going to school and getting Bachelors or something?

Oh, that was right. Money.

The thing that made her dad miserable, made everyone in the damn family miserable. Bonnie scoffed to herself just as the Teller-Morrow tow truck turned into the back parking lot.

About damn time.

The boys hopped out of the truck, one with a slightly fuzzy mohawk, and the other looked vaguely familiar. Tall and really skinny with very messy sandy blonde hair.

"Kippy?" She blurted out.

He looked up at her with squinted eyes. Yep, it was Kip.

"Well, I'll be damned." Bonnie said. She slid off her car and walked towards Kip. He still had a confused look on his face.

"Bonnie?" She nodded her head with a smile. "Oh, wow."

He hugged her like an old friend. She hadn't seen Kippy in a while. Well, more like five or six years.

"I didn't know you were still here." He said as he stepped back to get a better look at her. She probably did look different to him. No more all black clothing or harsh black make-up.

"Yeah," she said gingerly " I am."

"This it?" Kip pointed to her now in-operable car.

"Yeah. Keeps clicking everytime I try to start it. Just fine this morning, though." She handed Kip her keys as she walked up to the back wall of the diner and leaned back to watch them hook her car up to the truck.

Kip slipped into the driver seat of her car and stuck the key in the ignition. He attempted to start it but the car made the same clicking noise that it had made for Bonnie.

"See, told ya." She said with a shrug.

"That does sound like the starter." His co-worker chimed in. First time she heard him speak and it was also the first time she looked at him.

He looked cute when he smiled at her. She could feel her face redden, and if it wasn't for the brim of her military cap covering most of her face, you would notice it.

"Thats what I keep saying but, you know...I'm a girl so...." She shrugged again, this time with a half smile and a tilt of her head.

"You need a ride home?"

Bonnie shook her head, " Nah, Kippy, I'll just walk. My place is just down the street, anyway."

"Really, you've got your own place. Where?" Kip seemed a little surprised.

"Yeah, I live on top of Red Phish music."

His friend scoffed, "Yeah, thats down the street and around a couple of blocks. We'll give you a lift."

He motioned for her to follow and got in the truck. Bonnie looked at Kip, shrugged and got in the truck. She sat in between him and his friend on the ride to wherever it was they were taking her.

"We'll take you back to your place. Unless you want to go back to the autoshop. One of us could give you a ride home on our bikes."

"Ummm, thanks but no thanks..." She trailed off because, well, she didn't know this guy's name.

"Juice." He finished.

"Juice, okay." That was a weird name. "Ummm, yeah, I can just walk home. Seriously, its-its no problem." Then she added "Though I appreciate this. You guys driving me to the repair shop. Thanks."

"Hey, no problem." Juice told her and flashed that smile of his. She liked it. It made her blush just a little more.


	3. Chapter 3: Do Ya

Disclaimer: Do not own SOA, yada yada. I hate doing disclaimers. Can't you tell?

Chapter 3: Do Ya

**"In this life I've seen ev'rything I can see, woman  
I've seen lovers flying through the air hand in hand  
I've see babies dancin' in the midnight sun  
I've seen dreams that came from the heavenly skies above  
I've seen old men cryin' at their own grave sides  
And I've seen pigs all sittin' watchin' picture slides  
But I never seen nothin' like you"**

** Electric Light Orchestra, "Do Ya"**

"Come on, Bonnie."

There was really no way she was going to do it. Even if he bugged the shit out of her.

"It won't be that scary. Just hold on tight. Move when I move-"

"No thanks, Juice." She cut off. Really no way. She didn't know why he was following her.

"I swear you won't get hurt. I'll be careful."

"Juice."Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and turned to glare at the young tattooed biker. "I am not riding home on that." She told him and pointed to his bike.

"Why not." Juice had been walking, with his bike, beside her trying to convince her to let him give her a lift home. On his bike.

There was no way in hell.

"Because I just met you." was her excuse

"Bullshit." He called plainly.

"No it isn't." sing-songed Bonnie with a smile.

She started to walk again, past the gate and down onto the sidewalk. He followed her on the road, his motorcyle emitting a soft, dull growling sound.

"Won't you get in trouble for this?" Bonnie asked him with a quizzical look.

Juice simply shook his head, "Nah. I told them I was giving you a ride home."

"Well you're not." She countered. And he wasn't so there really was no need to follow her. She heard him let out a frustrated sigh.

"Bonnie."

"What?"

"Just let me give you a ride home. You can wear my helmet if it makes you feel better."

Bonnie contemplated the act. If she rode on the back of his bike, he might leave her alone. And it wasn't that she didn't like him. Because she did. Or, she at least thought he was cute. And he seemed pretty nice. But the thought of being close to him made her quite nervous.

"Will you leave me alone?" She emphasized 'alone.'

She watched Juice think about it, "Umm, maybe."

She shot him a glare.

"Sure," and then he quickly added "but I can't promise anything thing."

Bonnie let out a sigh, "Alright." she reached out towards him. "Give me the damn helmet."

Juice unhooked his helmet and handed it over to her. The petite blonde straddled the big machine as she secured the helmet on her head.

"Lets go."

But Juice didn't go. Instead, he reached back for one of her hands. Bonnie quickly pulled it away form his grasp.

"You're gonna have to hold onto me, you know that?"

Bonnie pressed her lips tight, furrowed her brow, but gingerly put her arms around Juice. This was odd. She felt so nervous. Her palms were sweeting, her face was flushed. Her whole body was sweating. Did he notice?

"You good?"

"Yeah."

--

Riding on the back of Juice's motorcyle wasn't that bad. Even though after she got off, her legs had felt like jello.

"Whoa." Juice yelled out in surprise as he grabbed her arm to steady her. "You gonna be okay?"

Bonnie pulled her arm away, choosing instead to steady herself against the brick wall of the old building she lived in. It was a store front, currently Red Phish music, and had two apartments upstairs. One was of course hers and the other belonged to the owner of Red Phish, Todd. Cool guy, Todd. He was a long haired, middle-aged hippie who also smoked weed from time to time.

"I'll be fine. Well, this is my place. My car should be done by tomorrow, the next day..."

"We'll call you when its ready."

"Okay." And with that, Bonnie ran up the back stairwell to her apartment.

"Bye." Said Juice in a slightly disappointed tone, as he waved to no one.

--

Thanks to those who have written reviews. I really appreciate it. Any reviews, really! Give me some constructive criticism here peoples!


	4. Chapter 4: Roadkill

Disclaimer: I do not own SOA.

Chapter 4: Roadkill

Bonnie watched from behind the blinds as Juice left; his motorcycle thundering down the street. And with a sigh of relief, she sat down on her couch and relaxed. Up since four o'clock in the morning with only five hours of sleep. Her day had been a long one. She slipped off her Converse high-tops and curled up on the couch in a thick white blanket. She smelled like fried diner food, but she had gotten used to it after the first three months of working there.

She fell asleep with the TV on, remembering that the last thing she had watched before dozing off was Golden Girls. It was a peaceful sleep, albeit for one on the couch.

Ah, her lovely couch. It had been through a lot with her. From her first party (she was never having a party again, more trouble than fun) to spontaneous couch sex. Good times...good times...

_...They call me Hell, they call me Stacy. They call me Her, they call me Jane...._

Was that her phone? She really needed to change her ringtone.

"Hello." She answered in a crackly voice.

"Umm, yeah, is this Bonnie Asher?" it was a male voice. Kind of nasal-y. It sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yep." the young woman yawned as she sat up and stretched.

"Yeah, you're car is ready." The voice told her. Cool, that was pretty quick. And it was still daylight.

"Mmmkay. Thanks."

"Sure." Then he hung up. Clearly not a phone person, which she didn't blame him. Neither was she.

Bonnie got up off her couch and sauntered into her small kitchen. She still smelled like food and that made her already hungry stomach rumble even louder. She opened the old, beat up refrigerator to inspect what she had in there. And for a cook, it wasn't really that much. A couple plastic containers of left overs that were most likely molding, two withering tomatoes, and an almost empty container of milk. She shook her head. This was sad. So, so, so damn sad.

Her stomach growled again and she was starting to get that sick-hungry feeling in her stomach. The cook waited for it to pass until she started to move to her cabinets. She pulled down a box of cereal and looked inside to see how much she had. Enough for a bowl. Hopefully she had enough milk to go with it.

Bowl of cereal in hand, Bonnie stood in the door way to her kitchen and watched whatever happened to be on. It looked like weekday afternoon television programs. She turned to look at the clock hanging over her stove. It read one-thirty.

Wait. One-thirty?

The young woman sat her bowl down on the counter and went to pick up her phone. It couldn't be this early in the afternoon, she thought to herself as she slid her phone open, it just couldn't be.

But it was. She had slept through the rest of yesterday and into much of today.

"I really need to get more sleep." Bonnie grumbled to herself.

It was Tuesday, her day off. The car could wait just a little longer. She didn't have anywhere to go. Well, anywhere that was really important.

--

"Who in hell are you starin' at, boy?"

Juice jumped, startled by Chibs' question.

"No one." He said as he went back to working on the motorcycle infront of him. The Scot leaned over to look through the door to the office.

"Dude, are you staring at Bonnie?" Half-sack inquired.

She was standing in the office talking to Gemma about picking up her car.

"Shes got that librarian look to her. Kinky." Chibs jabbed Juice in the ribs with his elbow.

Juice looked up to notice what his clubmate had observed. Now that she had her hair up without a hat on, he did see that she did have that severe librarian look to her. Throw on a pair of glasses and the whole thing would be complete. She was also small in almost every aspect. She was a short and thin woman with a small chest. Quite the opposite of what he was used to seeing around the MC. Even her tattoos stood out against the others'. She had Love written in bold letters on her left wrist and after the word was a small star. Her upper right arm had thin lines that wrapped around and curled.

"Go talk to her." Chibs suggested

"No, man," Juice protested. When he had dropped her off at her apartment yesterday, she didn't seem to like him all that much. "Shes just some girl. I mean, her tits aren't even that big."

"Oh, come on Juice. You were drooling all over her yesterday." Half-Sack reminded him. "Besides, Bonnie isn't that bad of a person."

"So you know the girl, Prospect?" Chibs asked, interested.

"Yeah, I went to school with her older brother."

"So you don't know her, you know her brother." Corrected the Scotsman.

"Well, yeah, but I used to talk to her in highschool sometimes. No one really liked her, a lot of people thought she was a bit of a freak. She used to be one of those weird chicks back in school. Kind of wore all black and stuff." The prospect explained

"You mean that little thing there," Chibs pointed back to Bonnie, who was now in what seemed to be a civil conversation with Gemma "used to be one of those spike wearing, angsty shits that walk around in trench coats in a-hundred degree weather?"

Half-Sack shook his head, "Nah, she wasn't that bad. Kind of geeky, though. She was in the school's choir. I think she was in the San Juan County choir, too."

Chibs looked back at the girl, taking in her loose blue jeans and the t-shirt. What in hell was Flyleaf?

"I don't see much wrong with her. Boys right, though, Tits ain't that big."

--

The first thing that Bonnie Asher noticed about the Teller-Morrow office was that it was plastered with pictures of half naked women. The second thing she noticed was that, oddly enough, there was a woman sitting at the desk. She would guess that this lady was in her mid to late forties. She had brown hair that was highlighted with a home kit. Bonnie could tell by the way it looked. This woman also showed some cleavage. It was one of the first things Asher noticed about her.

"Umm, I'm here to pick up my car." She said timidly from the doorway. "Its the white Eldorado."

The woman rifled through the papers on her desk, swiftly stood up from her seat to grab Bonnie's set of key from the board, and handed them to her.

"Thats a nice car you've got there." the woman told her, taking Bonnie's bank debit card in exchange for the paper work.

"Thanks."

"Don't see many girls your age driving a car like that."

"Yeah, but its a good car. Rides really well. Temperamental pedal, though. All Cadillacs kind of have those."

"I know." The woman stated. "I used to drive an XLR." The woman handed her a receipt "I'm gonna need you to sign this."

"Sure." Bonnie hunched over the desk to sign it, then handed the small slip back.

"Alright, Ms. Asher, there you go." The woman dismissed with what passed as a smile.

"Thanks." Bonnie said with an awkward smile and turned to leave so she could find her car. There was a row of motorcycles to her right and random cars to her left.

"Hey Bonnie!" someone yelled from inside the autoshop.

Bonnie pivoted around as she walked to see who had called her name. Kip was standing in the garage, waving at her.

"Hey, Kippy." She shouted, then turned to her car. Which was parked nose in. "Hey could you help me back out my car? I'm terrible at it and I don't want to run over anyone." Because the last thing she needed was to run over a biker.

"Uh, I'm busy." He said, but then added, "Juice could help you."

_Haha. Great. Yeah, just great..._

"Mmmkay. Sure." Bonnie said with an uneasy but compliant nature.

--

Back inside the garage, Juice himself was protesting to what Half-Sack was suggesting. Bonnie surely did not like the tech wiz and that just made it all awkward.

"No. No." He hissed, while waving his arms back in forth in protest.

"Come on, man." The Prospect encouraged. "Besides, I'm busy."

"Lets go, Juice-y boy." The Scotsman pushed the young man up out off his stool and out of the garage.

Bonnie was amused by Chibs' struggling to push Juice out into open area to help her back her car out of the spot. Which was sort of Chibs' fault in the first place.

"I'm sorry, darlin'-"

"Bonnie." She interjected. She hated strangers calling her pet names.

"Uh, right. Chibs," He held out his hand, obviously for a handshake. All he got was a questioning look. Now he could see what was so off-setting about this woman. She was just a little huffy. He continued, none the less, "Yeah, I parked the car there. Its a bit of a tight spot, isn't it?"

"Nah, not at all." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

Bonnie watched as Juice tried to escape from the Scot's grip so he could run back into the garage. But Chibs caught the boy and pulled him right back to where he had been standing. The thwarted attempt at escape made Bonnie let out a quiet and short laugh.

"Just stand here and make sure the girl doesn't hit anything. Think of it like one of those games you play on that damned computer of yours." And with that, Chibs walked back to the garage.

Juice turned to look at Bonnie, who was waiting on him with a sheepish grin. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask, 'Are you coming?'

"Lets get this over with." He relented.

The young woman slid into the driver's seat and started the car. Juice admired the starting rumble that came form the Cadillac. He watched her slowly back out of the spot, all while making sure no one was in Bonnie's path.

"Hey Juice."

It was Emily Duncan, driving through the parking lot in her blue Mustang with the top down, wind in her long blonde hair. God, she was hot. What he wouldn't give for a night-

The sudden sharp and overbearing pain in his foot snapped Juice from his reverie. It took about half a minute to register in his mind what exactly had happened. Bonnie had run over his left foot.

And that was when he cried out in pain.

"Juice, I am so sorry." Bonnie was beside him with her hand on his arm.

"You ran over my foot." He managed between gasps of pain.

"I know and I am so sorry." She tugged on his arm to get him to walk with her. He limped a couple of feet and then stopped. Juice crumpled to the ground and held his damaged extremity. That made her panic just a little more.

"What happened?" Kip asked as he, Chibs, and the woman from the office rushed to the mohawked biker's side.

"I kind of ran over his foot."

"Kind of?!" Poor Juice was rocking back and forth in pain.

"I'll take him to the hospital." Office lady informed.

"No," Bonnie protested, "I'll take him. Its my fault anyway." She turned to Chibs and Kip. "Help me get him in the car."

Once they had secured the young man in the car, Bonnie made a break for St. Thomas'. At a red light just a block away, she looked at Juice. He had closed his eyes but was still whimpering.

I am in such deep shit.

--

So, did I make the guys too out of character? And does Bonnie seem like a Mary-Sue? Feedback is very much appreciated. Grammar, characters, plot, whatever. And thank you to all who have reviewed so far.


	5. Chapter 5: Take You Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

Thanks to all here who have given feedback. I very much appreciate. And criticism is welcome.

**Chapter 4: Take You Home**

She hated hospitals. She hated the uncomfortable chairs and the sterile smell and the sickness. And she especially hated the fact that she was here because she had ran over someone's foot.

They had taken Juice, or Jean Carlos Ortiz as the name on the health care card had said, off to an x-ray in a wheelchair. That left Bonnie all by herself in the waiting room. She wasn't family and she defiantly wasn't a spouse, so that left her to sit in one of those damn uncomfortable chairs and to read old, out-dated magazines. Not that she actually concentrated on any of them because every time someone opened the door to the waiting room, she looked up.

She felt bad for running over his foot. More than bad, actually. She felt horrible. Not on the verge of tears horrible, but bad enough to stress her out. Her right leg was shaking up and down due to pure impatience. How long was that damn x-ray going to take?

The door opened and she didn't look up. She just stared at the reflective surface of her phone.

"Miss Asher."

The voice snapped Bonnie out of her absent-minded stare and made her look up. A woman in scrubs and a lab coat stood in front of her, clipboard in hand. She had dark hair and strong features. Behind her was Juice, sitting in a wheelchair with his foot wrapped up. He looked a little better than he had been in the car, but he still looked pissed.

"I'm Doctor Knowles." The woman introduced herself with a professional but warm smile. "His foot isn't broken but he should stay off of it for a while and all he needs for the pain is some regular pain killers. And if anything else should happen, just have someone down at the shop call me, okay?"

"Sure, no problem." Bonnie told the Doctor with a reassuring smile.

"Alright. Bye Juice."

"See ya, Tara."

"Looks like you've been in one before." Bonnie nodded toward the wheelchair with a weak smile.

"Yeah, this isn't the worst I've had happen to me."

They sat there, in an awkward silence until Bonnie ended it with a very frustrated groan.

"I am really very sorry, Juice. You don't know how bad I feel about this." She buried her face in her hands.

"Don't worry about it. I wasn't paying attention, anyway." Juice admitted.

Bonnie looked at him, chin resting on the palm of her hand, "You won't be able to work."

"And I won't be able to go on the run this weekend, either." He moved the chair so he could be closer to her.

"Run?"

"Yeah, we're taking some blood for some charity run. The whole club is goin'. On our bikes...." He trailed off.

"Ohhh, I see. That's cool." This was getting real awkward. Way too much for Bonnie's taste. "I guess I should get you home now." She arose form her chair and walked around him. "I'll push."

"Try not to push too hard. You might hurt me again." The joke gained him a slap in the back of his head.

"Not funny." Bonnie chastised him, but he could hear a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Oh, you know you found it funny." the young biker argued back as the cook pushed him down the hall.

"It was not." His makeshift nurse sneered as they turned the corner.

"Was too."

"Keep it up and I'll run you into the wall." She threatened, half joking and half not.

She wouldn't. Would she?

He looked back at her with a skeptical glance.

"Try me, pal." Ms. Asher challenged back as she looked down at him.

"No thanks." He opted out after a minute of thought. He really didn't want to sit through another x-ray.

"Good. I didn't feel like using the extra effort, anyway." They walked through the front doors of St. Thomas' and Bonnie stopped. "Wait here and try not to roll off anywhere."

She turned to walk to the West parking lot as Juice yelled after her, "Sure you don't need anyone to help you back out!?"

"Not funny!" She shouted at him with looking back. Juice laughed to himself as he watched her slowly back out of her spot and stopped infront of him.

"You can limp to the passenger seat, can't you?" Juice nodded and stood up out of the wheelchair. She draped his arm over her shoulders for support and he hobbled over to the passenger side of the Cadillac. He slid into the tan leather seat as best as he could and Bonnie shut the door carefully.

"You don't have to be so careful." He told her as she got back into the driver's seat.

"I know," She said as she shifted into drive.

Juice looked around the car. It was almost well kept on the inside with its tan leather interior, heated seats, and fake woodgrain console. The steering wheel had black marks on it as did the leather covered shifter. The stereo was amazing as it blasted out some upbeat pop/rock music that he was pretty sure he had heard before. A wire dangled form the cassette player and was connected to an itouch that sat in the cup holder. He picked it up, examining the skin that covered the mp3 player. It was a drawing of a little girl with long black hair and a dusty brown colored bunny.

"No Doubt?" He questioned with the itouch held up, screen facing her.

"Yeah," She said as if it were obvious. "What? You don't like No Doubt?"

"They're okay." He shrugged and started to go through her music. "Didn't know they did a cover of Stand and Deliver."

"Yeah. Pretty good cover. I mean, as far as covers go." She grabbed it from his hands at the stop light and skillfully navigated to her next song choice before the light turned green.

It was a heavy number that started with cymbal crashes and went into full tilt rock and roll. There was a girl singing in an almost unrecognizable accent that kind of reminded him of Chibs'. The only part where he could actually here what she was saying was the chorus.

_I can't wait, wait, to take you home_

_And I can't wait, wait to take you home_

_I can wait only for so long_

_And then I'm having my way with you and making you my own_

Juice raised an eyebrow and cast a knowing glance at Bonnie, who shifted her glance from him to the road in a way that clearly said that his expression was weirding her out.

"What?" she whined, her voice slightly nasal-y. Then her eyes widened. It finally landed in the bucket. "Oh-ho-ho, no."

"Sure, whatever." He smiled smugly and grabbed her itouch again to continue his inspection of her musical tastes.

There was a lot of names that he didn't know, some he knew because they mainstream and some he himself listened to. Which reminded him.

"Can we stop at the garage. I need to get my stuff."

She turned off to the right and made her way to the Teller-Morrow garage. She parked off to the side, leaving a lot more space than she really needed. Juice got out of the car and tried to hobble his way to the building that sat next to it.

"Juice." She propped him up again and helped him walk to the door. The Sons of Anarchy reaper decorated the wall beside it with a blueish glow. "I thought you said we needed to go to the garage."

"Did I?" Bonnie nodded vigorously "Oh, my bad."

She helped him through the door into a dimly lit place that looked almost like a bar. There was a pool table, couches and, what do you know, a bar. There was also a stripper pole. Nice.

"Well if it ain't Juice and his new little lady friend," Came a voice form the bar.

"Hey Bobby." The hand that was currently resting on Bonnie's shoulder waved a bit.

Bobby was an old man with crazy graying hair and a pot belly. He looked her up and down, which made her skin crawl slightly.

"And whats your name, pretty lady?" The man, Bobby, asked her as Juice guided them to behind the bar.

Bonnie looked over at Juice, who was trying to bend over to grab a case on a shelf under the counter. He was failing miserably.

"This is Bonnie. Bonnie, could you get my laptop case?" He asked with a sweet smile. The blond shook her head, smiling, and squatted down to gab the case. She wasn't about to bend over in this place.

"So this is the girl who ran over your foot." Bobby took a swig of the beer in his hand "She not talk?"

"Oh, I talk." Bonnie chimed in from behind the counter. She stood up with the laptop case in hand. "Just when I want to. That all?" She asked, turning to a slightly abashed Juice.

"Umm, I need to talk to Bobby about the run. Could you," he reached into one of the pockets of his black cargo pants for his keys. "Go into the garage and look for my locker? My ipod is in there."

"Sure." She said taking the keys in her hand and heading for the door.

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie." Bobby yelled as she closed the door.

"Well, shes nice." the old man said in a sarcastic tone.

--

The lyrics are from Tat's Take You Home.


	6. Chapter 6: Like one of those

Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

Chapter Six: Like one of those romantic comedies....

Bonnie stuck her head into the office, hoping the lady from earlier would still be there. And, luckily, she was.

"Ummm, hi." The woman jumped a little from her seat. "I'm Bonnie, the one who ran over Juice's foot."

"Oh, right." She said, removing her glasses. "He all good?"

"Yeah, hes in the clubhouse. He asked me to get his ipod. Said it was in his locker." Bonnie held up the keys for the woman to see.

"Sure, this way."

Bonnie followed the woman to through the garage and to the back into a small room. There was a row of metal lockers, upper and lower, that lined the wall. Bonnie scanned them all until she found his.

"So, whats the damage?" The woman questioned as she sat on the old wooden bench.

"Its just some big time bruising. He can't be on it, though." She was reluctant to add the next part. "Means no run for him."

Bonnie winced because she had partially put two and two together before taking Juice down to St. Thomas'. This woman walked around and acted as if she was the big bitch on campus. So to speak. Meant that if he was part of the MC, this woman was most likely their leader's wife.

But all Bonnie got was a tsk tsk from the woman.

"Sorry." She said as she gingerly went through the contents of Juice's locker. It smelled like old sex and sweat and it just plain stunk in there.

"I'm not the one you should be sayin' sorry to."

Bonnie found his ipod, slammed the locker door shut, and locked it. Then she rubbed her hands on her jeans. She felt as if she needed to scrub her hands clean.

The woman sighed as she followed Bonnie outside, " Might be a good thing. He tends to screw things up."

It sounded more like a warning than a simple stated fact. She stopped and shot her a questioning look.

"Hes not very smart." The lady explained. "Tends to be the butt of most of the jokes around here. Him and the Prospect."

Bonnie gave the woman a confused look, "The who?"

"The Prospect." The woman said as if the young blond should know what in hell she was talking about. "Half-Sack?"

"Kip?"

The woman nodded, "Thats what we call him."

"So, hes a Prospect? Like he wants to be in the club? Hes a _prospective_ member." The woman nodded. "Doesn't sound like something ol' Kippy would do."

"Well, ol' Kippy has changed, I guess." The woman motioned for Bonnie to follow her "Come on, Juice is gonna be missin' that damn thing."

"Sounds like he loves his technology." Bonnie joked as she followed her out into the empty space between the clubhouse and the autoshop.

"He sure does. By the way," The woman stopped and turned to Bonnie. She held out her hand. "names Gemma."

Bonnie took the woman's hand and gave it a firm shake, "I'm Bonnie. Though, you probably already know that. Seeing as you handle the paperwork and all."

"Hey, Bonnie!" The young blond turned to see Juice, propped up on a crutch. They probably had a few of those around with the way that Juice had talked. Not his first time getting hurt and not the worst that had happened to him.

"Well, I guess we might see you around." Gemma said as she watched Bonnie cross the parking lot.

"Eh, you might." Bonnie replied, not so sure herself.

--

"This one. Turn here."

He had directed her into a small and quaint housing development named Southwood. It was filled with one story starter homes made out of stucco and wood, but the random two story house popped up as they drove down the street.

"Take the left down here." Juice ordered from the passenger seat.

"This place is..." Bonnie paused for a moment to find the right word to describe this place. It was more family than bachelor. More straight laced than biker.

"Not what you were expecting?" Juice supplied, both asking and finishing her sentence.

"You got that right." Bonnie looked around. They're were kids playing out on front lawns while their parents watched on. "Neighbors must love you."

The young biker shrugged, "Most of them don't really mind. Some are actually bikers themselves. Well, not hardcore bikers like myself." He bragged with a smile that made the young woman roll her eyes.

"Yeah, they're aren't any in Throckmorton's."

"That where you grew up?"

"No," Bonnie said with discontent. "That's where my mother lives with her new husband."

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. The subject of her mother was a sore one. Especially when that subject also included her mother's new husband, Glenn Thorn.

"Here it is." He pointed to a light stone house with a big garage. Bonnie slowly turned the car into the short driveway and stopped it.

"Wait," She commanded "and I'll help you."

Juice watched her as she slipped out of the driver's seat, keys jingling in her hand, and ran infront of the car to open his door. Then she pulled him from the seat and draped his arm around her shoulder. She hobbled along with him to the front door, which proved to be more difficult than she thought it would be.

"I can take it from here." Juice said as he pulled away from her.

"You sure?" She asked as she watched him bring out his house keys and unlock the door. He pushed the door in and almost fell, face-first, onto the floor.

"Whoa." Bonnie grabbed the back of his t-shirt and tried to steady him.

Which was more of a fail than a success. He stumbled and she was pulled down with him. She tried to grab the door way but her hand slipped. Juice landed on the floor, stomach down, and Bonnie landed the same way right on top of him.

Luckily, both had avoided the injured foot.

"Ahh, fuck." Cursed the petite blond as she scrambled to lift herself off of him.

It was sort of funny, because it was one of those moments that only happened in romantic comedies. Yet it was happening all wrong.

"We just have the worst of luck, don't we?"

"Shyeah." She muttered as she picked herself up. Juice tried to hoist himself from the floor, but it was difficult with just one good foot. "Here," Bonnie offered a helping hand and got him to the couch. He lied down, feet propped up on a worn out pillow, and turned on the flat screen.

"Nice." Bonnie sat on the arm of the couch and took in the surroundings. The TV was hooked up to a surround sound whose speakers hung from the corners of the ceiling, and along with a cable box, there was a blue-ray disc player and an Xbox 360. A wooden coffee table sat to the side with stacks of magazines (that looked to be a combination of porn and tech wizard stuff) and a pizza box.

"What're you playing?" She nodded towards the gaming system.

"Umm, Modern Warfare Two." Juice looked up at her with more interest. "You play?"

"A little, though first-person shooters aren't my thing. I'm more of a Playstation RPG fan myself. My little brother plays." And Max was damn good at it. Kid spent more time infront of the TV than outside.

"You wanna hang around and play a game?" Juice suggested with a sweet pleading smile.

She looked down at him with slight hesitation. She shrugged and nodded. It was her fault that he was stuck here in the first place. That and she had nothing to do.

"Alright."

Juice situated himself so Bonnie could sit beside him on the couch. She sunk into the pillows, which were a lot more comfortable than they looked, and grabbed a wireless controller.

"I warn you, I suck at this game." And she did. The split screen on the multi-player mode confused her and the controller was something she wasn't used to. Plus, playing with someone who knew the ins and the outs of the game and had beat it on Veteran was not very fun.

"I'll be easy, then." She heard a hint of flirtation in his voice.

Bonnie tried not to smile too much, but she couldn't help it. Not with that look on his face. It was one of those smiles that was rather smug because he knew that his flirtation was effective.

--

"No, not the Predator! Come on!" Bonnie yelled as Juice unleashed a Predator missile on her poor unsuspecting little soldier. "You suck!"

She smacked his shoulder playfully and he just laughed.

"You said you'd go easy on me." Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

"I am. You got me-"

"Twice." she interjected.

"But you still got me."

"Again, Twice. And you've gotten me how many times?"

" Only twenty something..." He stared at her while she glared at him. "You don't want to play anymore, do you?"

They sat there staring at each other until Bonnie slowly smiled and held up one finger in a fast jerky motion, "One more time."


End file.
